Lost love
by Butter King
Summary: Master Chief took the loss of Cortana badly and sought a new way to ease his pain. (First Fanfic plz be kind)


The grunts had gone about infiltrating the master Chef's secret hideout. What they would find in the Chef's wake would change their view of the chef forever. They found a moldy silken object which the Grunt's imagined had once been a sub par, half-assed bologna sandwich.

"Ooga booga who dis?" One of the grunts inquired.

One of the smaller grunts was urged forward to inspect the sandwich. After he grabbed a hold of its moist buns, he took a sniff. The smell was so pungent that its brain was sent forth back in time to 3 weeks ago, when the chef had hold of it.

 _ ***Flashback Wawoowa***_

It was three weeks ago on planet Halo, in the very secret base the grunts had discovered. Master Chef had just gotten back from a mission in space, and was feeling hot and bothered, but hopeful for the future of planet Halo where his secret base was. However, no matter how hard he tried, how many missions he went on, his mind always went back to Cortana and her death. His heart always felt heavier in these moments, and so did his crotch.

Master Chef slipped out of his secret bed in his secret base on planet Halo. Tears streamed down his manly rugged and handsome cheeks.

' _Cortana, my love.'_ Master Chef slipped out of his puke green armor and just noticed he had a grief-induced erection. He tried his best to ignore his ham bone, as he always did, and went down for a distraction snack. His secret base had many snacks, like gummy bears. Master Chef loved gummy bears. He would often catch himself playing army with the tiny goo bears. Then in a moment of victory, he would devour them, like Cortana devoured his heart in a metaphorical sense. The gummy bears, however, would not fill his tummy or heart in the place of his sexy robot companion.

He opened his secret fridge in his secret kitchen, it was running light but he still had the provisions to craft a rudimentary bologna sandwich. He went to the cupboard and retrieved improperly stored bread. He grabbed hold of the aged buns and remarked to himself,

"Still moist."

He quickly gathered the rest of the ingredients and went to work constructing the sandwich, the whole while his mind unable to let go of Cortana and her sensual hips. Master Chef stared at the sandwich making buns, they reminded him of her curvaceous curves similar to the sweet buns, but not as crumby. And would probably not make a good sandwich because they were made of robot booty and not bread.

Before he realized the sandwich was complete, it sat there in all its glory, waiting. Master Chef didn't feel so hungry anymore, he felt a different need. One that could also be quenched by sweet buns, but not of the bread kind that was located in his secret base on planet Halo. The hunger he felt came not from his stomach but from somewhere down lower.

As he stared into the pink, moist bologna something reminded him of her… maybe it was the moistness or the way the bologna reflected the light of his helmet. He caressed the pink moist, sack of meat covered in need was too much, he could hold no longer.

Before even he knew what was happening, his little Chef plunged right into the meaty depths of the sandwich. The tiny helmet of little Chef hit the floor with a clack as it explored the deep caverns of moist pinkness.

" Oh, Da- I mean Cortana, how I have missed your little robotic, yet lifelike, cock holster!" Master Chef proclaimed with sexual glee. Little Chef agreed as it entered and exited the moist cavern like an amature spelunker in a dangerous cave with vampire bats.

Five minutes into the glorious fucking, Master Chef felt something wrong. There was too much friction on his dicktion. He was building too much heat, and his dicktion was starting to chafe. He needed something to both cool his dicktion down and to smoothen the ride. His eyes searched vigorously until they landed on his butter dish, located in the secret kitchen of his secret base on planet Halo.

He quickly grabbed a fisfull of butter, and spread it all over little Chef and Cortana's moist highway to hell, He bellowed a great warcry,

"MORE BUTTAH!" The frequency of his hip movements increased four score and seven years ago.

Another 6 minutes in, and little Chef was ready to blow, as Master Chef was about ready to commit a million added the last ingredient to this sandwich, the mayonnaise. The guttural scream that followed blew out all of the windows in his secret base on planet alerted a passing ship full of grunts that had enough time to check all the hoopla. However, due to the limits of space travel it would take the grunts 3 weeks to get there.

"Dammit." Said the captain Grunt.

"Are we there yet?" Demanded one of the Grunts.

"Shut up or we're turning this junk heap around!"

"But Dad!"

"Shut up before I divorce your mother, you pathetic excuse for crotch fruit!"

 _ ***End of flashback Wawuuguuwa***_

All of this was relayed into the grunt. Unfortunately due to the information overload that incurred, the grunt had an aneurysm and promptly died on the cold, cold floor. No one but the Chef himself would ever know of what happened in secret base on Planet Halo.


End file.
